Thomas ‘The Baron’ Cochrane was one of the last of his kind. The twentieth century had dawned and he was an unwelcome memory of a violent time in his country’s history. He had ridden with Quantrill’s Raiders, had known Jesse James and Cole Younger, and between times as a paid killer he had worked the ranches alongside William Bonney and John Chisum. Now he was approaching old age, the scars of battles fought across his face and reflected in his bitter eyes. All he owned he brought with him, his gun, his horse, his bedroll and the bottle of laudanum he was addicted to. Not much for a lifetime of thievery and murder. He was despised by a country that was fast becoming respectable. But he wasn’t going to go with a whimper. There would be one last gunfight, and he didn’t intend for either of them to walk away from this one.